


Immortal Beloved

by DarkmoonSigel



Series: The Notes Played In Between [22]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Red Dragon - Thomas Harris
Genre: Blood, Cannibalism, Hannibal is a Cannibal, M/M, Not Beta Read, Sassy Will, Shocking I know, Supernatural Elements, Will Figures It Out, blood and roses, lots of blood, quotes and references, sassy will is sassy, strange!will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 21:36:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkmoonSigel/pseuds/DarkmoonSigel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal guts Will like in Red Dragon, kinda, but with a much different and unexpected result than in either media.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote something weird. Not beta read.
> 
> All info from Wikipedia. I do not own it or anything else for that matter.  
> The Immortal Beloved (German "Unsterbliche Geliebte") is the mysterious addressee of a love letter which composer Ludwig van Beethoven wrote on 6–7 July 1812 in Teplitz. The apparently unsent letter was found in the composer's estate after his death, after which it remained in the hands of Anton Schindler until his death, was subsequently willed to his sister, and was sold by her in 1880 to the Berlin State Library, where it remains today. The letter is written in pencil and consists of three parts.
> 
> Since Beethoven did not specify a year, nor a location, an exact dating of the letter and identification of the addressee was speculative until the 1950s, when an analysis of the paper's watermark yielded the year, and by extension the place. Scholars have since this time been divided on the intended recipient of the Immortal Beloved letter. The two candidates favored by most contemporary scholars are Antonie Brentano and Josephine Brunsvik.
> 
> There ya go. KNOWLEDGE GIVEN!

"Well.... that was unexpected."

Will looked down at the evisceration of his stomach cavity, his innards currently becoming intimately familiar with the floor. He glared down at his liver, evaluating its condition. He really had been drinking a lot lately. In his experience, the liver didn’t lie.

Losing interest in his organs and not bothering to catch them because it was just easier to leave them there for now and the lesion heal on its own, Will looked up at the man who had done the deed, bloody linoleum cutter still in hand. Wide sanguine eyes stared back at Will and his defiant continuing existence, thin lips parted in surprise at it. 

Admiring those strange eyes because it had been at least a century since he had seen someone with maroon, Will had to give credit where credit was due. Even shock was worn well by Hannibal Lecter and with great applaud. The man looked more lost in thought than having just gutted someone in his office. In Will’s vast experience, most chose to either faint, scream, or vomit. He was grateful for the doctor’s refrain on the third. He hated dealing with pukers. Always a mess and the smell just stuck with him, making him queasy. Given what Hannibal ate though, Will reasoned that he would have to have a cast iron stomach. 

“So….um….I’ve been meaning to tell you something…..” Will licked his lips, regrouping himself in the mental sense as he completed the act of emptying his torso of most of its contents. His heart and lungs could stay, but the whole digestive tract was a loss. Once the intestines fell out, it was like nature’s slip and slide puzzle from hell. His stomach was stubbornly hanging in there though, literally, so Will plucked the blade from the doctor’s numb fingers to work it out, adding the mess to the growing pile. 

Having a sense of satisfaction that usually came from spring cleaning one’s house, Will tossed the blade on top of his innards, needing and using both hands to press a seam into his flesh. He had been meaning to remove his liver and his kidneys lately. Alcohol abuse did terrible things to the body. 

“….I’m not human.” Will finished as his body knitted itself back together. Not for the first time, Will wished that his clothing would do the same thing as well. He had liked that sweater, ugly and threadbare as it had been. 

“I have gathered.” Hannibal said dryly, the words spoken soft but steady. Will smiled over at the man, pleased with his solid nature even in the face of the inconceivable. 

“In all fairness, it looks like you’ve been keeping secrets from me as well, Mr. Ripper.” Will nodded to the little table where a sketch of the Wound Man could be found out in the open, drawn and signed by Hannibal with the profile of his latest victim’s face.

“I believe I need a drink.” Hannibal blinked, which was a revelation to how startled and unsettled he was. Will wanted to applaud his attempts toward normalcy.

“Fair enough. Pour me one too.” Will said, looking around for some sort of receptacle for his organs. They were beginning to stink thanks to removal of his lower intestines and gall bladder. He decided on a bin, though the damn thing probably cost more than the entirety of his wardrobe. 

“Can you even…” Hannibal began to ask, looking pointedly at the stomach in Will’s hand, the one that should still be in Will‘s gut.

“Just pour the damn drink. By the time, I’m done with this everything will have grown back.” Will waved the man off, wincing as the gesture sent bodily fluids flying. He was glad he had forgotten to eat lunch or else it might have gotten really gross.

“Would you like some help?” Hannibal offered, making Will grin at him for his anchor of politeness. How often had that ever happen? Will tried to think but couldn’t come up with an instance where someone had offered to collect his organs up for him, especially after being the cause for their absence. 

“I think you’ve done enough already and it’s not like this is the first time. With my luck, I doubt it will be the last either.” Will chuckled, gathering up what was left of his remains into the bin. There wasn’t anything he could do about the blood right now. That and spleen juice never seemed to come out of anything. “Sorry about the rug.”

“Do not trouble yourself about it. I have been thinking about replacing it for a while now.” Hannibal murmured in that thoughtful way that Will quietly adored, the doctor’s mind obviously on other things than interior décor. He handed Will a tumbler filled three fingers high with amber liquid that smelled almost floral and way more expensive than anything Will usually chose to drink. Will was pleased to note that Hannibal’s hand was steady with only the barest of tremors to sway the drink.

“Hard liquor this early? Doctor Lecter, I’m shocked. It’s not even three o’clock in the afternoon yet. I’m a bad influence on you.” Will teased, loving how flustered Hannibal was and doing his damnedest not to show it. The doctor’s scotch was drank too fast though to denote total calm on his part. 

“Given the unique situation and the current company, I believe it is merited.” Hannibal said, his sharp gaze lingering over the remnants of Will’s sweater, the blood soaked material hanging off of Will’s perfectly whole and normal looking body to drip vibrant life onto his floor. 

“So you’re the Ripper. That was really careless leaving that drawing out like that.” Will nodded toward the little display table. “Are you trying to get caught or are you just that full of yourself?”

“What are you?” Hannibal asked, ignoring Will’s prodding questions entirely. Will allowed it since it was a better response than his silence. 

“Unique, I believe were your words. I did warn you to choose them wisely.” Will mused, setting down his drink so that he could strip off his ruined clothing until he was wearing nothing upon his skin expect for flaking stains of dried blood. He wanted to sit down but didn’t want to make a mess of things, his shirt and pants still sodden with wet crimson. Unashamed of his nudity, Will threw his ruined clothing on top of his offal, the garments not worth saving. He was well aware of Hannibal watching him, studying his body, looking for the wound or the source of his secret.

“Are you a god?” Hannibal asked as Will’s seated himself in one of comfy leather chairs, grumbling as he got up again to retrieve his drink.

“No.” Will sighed, really hating that question but it was better than being asked if he were an angel. Or a demon. He supposed it really depended on who was doing the asking. “Though I’ve been worshipped as one before. Waste of time really. I don’t have anything else going for me beyond the whole ‘I can’t die’ shtick.”

“How many times have you been killed?” Hannibal ventured. It was a perfectly reasonable but predictable question. Will had hoped that Hannibal would be a little bit more interesting than that.

“Lost count.” Will shrugged. “After a while, it becomes about the ’how’ and not about the number. Inventive deaths are more memorable than whether I’ve died in triple or quadruple digits, though I suspect the later. If you were wondering, being castrated, drawn, and quartered is still in my top ten.”

“Have you ever been decapitated?” was a pleasant surprise to hear. Usually at this point, a person would be asking his age or race or origin. Will reasoned that there just might be some hope for Hannibal yet.

“Oh sure. The French made it glamorous but it’s been a favored style of execution for since forever. Nothing says finality like lopping off a head.” Will said, holding out his empty glass. Ever the good host, Hannibal topped it off, pouring a generous amount in his own glass as well. “It’s annoying as hell.”

“Annoying?” Hannibal arched brow at him for the blasé dismissal of dismemberment. 

“Itches like crazy around the neck and I usually end up having a headache afterward for about a week. Also finding the damn thing. It was worse when people used to put severed heads up on spikes. There is nothing more maddening than watching one’s own body flail about just within reach.” Will grimaced. One of the nice things about ’civilized’ cultures was that they tended to bury all the parts together. It really took the guesswork out of locating the important bits. “You’re welcome to try it if you’d like to though I would prefer if you used something other than the linoleum knife.”

Hannibal seemed to mull the information and offer over for a bit before continuing. Will let him do so in silence, more content to observe the doctor in his repose. “Why come to me for therapy? Why the farce?” 

“Because I really do have problems with insomnia and sleep walking. Talking to you helps.” Will told him honestly. “Sleep is the only true reprieve I have left available to me. At least then, I can pretend that I am dead.”

“Do you want to die?” Hannibal ventured, making the question sound casual and Will loved the man even more for it.

“You ask the best questions.” Will smiled. “No. And I’ve surprised you now. Why?”

“I believe it is safe to assume that you are ancient. Aren’t you……weary?” Hannibal said, obviously choosing his words with care as he openly studied Will back. He didn’t seem bothered by Will’s casual nudity either but then the immortal reasoned not a lot perturbed a man like Hannibal.

“Yes, down to the marrow of my bones but even one as old as I is scared of dying. It is a fear that is engrained on any cognizant being though I have to admit I have given into the urge to off myself from time to time. Just to see if I could.” Will said as he swirled the contents of his glass around to watch the liquor sparkle and dance in its cut crystal container. Will liked that about Hannibal. The man valued pretty, well made things and their presentation. “That and this century, this new millennium, this new age is just so damn convenient. The level of indoor plumbing says it all.”

Hannibal looked unimpressed by Will’s assessment of an era though, the man looking like he was awaiting some sort of deeper revelation or insight. Will rolled his eyes at him. “You shit in a pot or a hole in the ground for the better part of two thousand years and then tell me that indoor plumbing isn’t one the greatest things ever conceived by man. If I never have to get up in the middle of night in the dead of winter to find some facilities again, I‘ll consider my existence blessed.” 

“So what now?” Hannibal grimaced, whether from his own question or the previous topic of conversation was left up to guess.

“I don’t know. You keep my secret, I’ll keep yours?” Will shrugged, having not really given the matter any thought. He hadn’t been planning on exposing himself like this but Hannibal had forced his hand from the gradual to the instant. It wasn’t like it hadn’t ever happened before though and the good doctor seemed to be taking it pretty well, all things considered. 

“You are not going to turn me in to Jack?” Hannibal pressed, the man shifting uneasily. Will wondered if he was planning an escape, Hannibal seeming the resourceful type to do so and Will was pretty damn naked at the moment. Not that he cared about modesty but people were more likely going to listen to reason from the well dressed doctor over the naked man covered in blood. 

“Why should I bother? You’re finite and there will always be someone else to replace you.” Will smirked, watching in amusement as a wave of rage made Hannibal a still, cold creature. The man looked so beautifully composed even when wounded. Will wondered what Hannibal looked like when he killed, if he would appear impassioned then. Or if he would deign to share such emotions with someone moving over or in him.

“You should let me fuck you.” Will said offhandly, watching as Hannibal’s brows rose toward the ceiling, the only sign of his surprise at the sudden remark.

“Why?” Hannibal asked in a detached manner that was more appropriate for inquires about the weather than coitus. 

“Or you can fuck me. I really don’t have a preference.” Will continued. “I’ve been around a long time, even before the Karma Sutra was in first edition. I think that speaks for itself. I’ve tried anything and everything you can conceive at least a dozen times before so you can’t shock my sensibilities though I may yours. If that isn’t enough, I think that we would both enjoy it as well.”

Hannibal stared Will down coldly in answer, not moving an inch toward him but not moving away or dismissing the possibility either. “Still not enough for you? You’re a hard man to please, Doctor Lecter.” Will grinned wolfishly, abandoning his glass and seat to stalk toward the man leaning against his desk. 

Draping himself over Hannibal, the doctor statuesque and so utterly still, Will leaning in to touch his forehead to Hannibal’s own as he wrapped his arms around broad shoulders and pressed his naked groin to a clothed one. “How about this then? Afterward, you can kill and eat me however you want. I can be your Prometheus every morning and twice on Sundays, feasting on my liver whenever your little cannibal heart desires. Or anything else you’re in the mood for.” 

And there it was. A crack in that icy calm demeanor, a flare of something beyond violent in those bloody eyes, a spark of cruelty that lit Hannibal up from within at the very thought of an unspoken urge being fulfilled so completely. 

“I’ll even pretend to stay dead for you, at least for a little while.” Will whispered, letting the edges of his lips graze against Hannibal’s, the sound of their flesh meeting raspy. The offer was enough, Hannibal breaking free of his self control by attacking Will’s mouth, driving past it to get at his tongue, sharp teeth sinking deep into the slick muscle there. Will laughed hoarsely, the rough sound of it choked on blood as his tongue was torn from his mouth, Hannibal’s fingers digging in like steel points into the back of his neck and shoulder where he was being gripped. 

Returning the favor, Will made Hannibal drop his stolen meat to fill the cannibal’s mouth with the wine of his life, Hannibal drinking down Will’s blood without hesitation, the messy excess of it dripping off of his chin and onto his suit. Holding Hannibal’s mouth open the best he could, Will made him feel the return of his tongue, the newly healed muscle wrapping around Hannibal’s own to taste him.

“What fun we shall have together…..”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of immortal Will with Cannibal Hannibal. Why? Cause you asked for it. Not Beta Read

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? I'm a giver.
> 
> Quotes in this are from Black Lab, Charles Dickens, and Mark Twain. Obviously I do not own any of it or anything from Hannibal.
> 
> And yes, I did make a reference to 'King Arthur' cause both Mads and Hugh were in it.

A body was laid out on a sheet of plastic over a sumptuous bed made up of black silk sheets. What had once been a human torso was made torn meat, the heart of the matter cracked wide open. White bones of ribs were spread out like ruined wings never meant for flight. Hollowed out of all its softer contents, the space of beats and breath was filled to brimming overflow with red roses in color saturated full bloom, the blossoms’ heady perfume mixing with the more metallic scents of clotted blood to make a strange perfume, coiling sweet and suffocating. 

The pretending corpse woke up from strange dreams involving darkly feathered stags and winter’s fall. It was nothing new for him to experience though. He had this dream almost every night. It felt like he had been dreaming it forever. It was easy for him to remember it, it was so apart of him now. 

Blinking blue grey eyes at the spectacle of himself, Will chuckled or at least attempted to, going through the motions of it at least the best he could without lungs to push air up and out his ruined throat. Apparently, Hannibal had had quite a bit of fun last night at his expense.

Sitting up slowly, Will watched in amusement as the flowers fell out of his chest cavity like strange bloody snow, petals sent fluttered down his legs and over his groin, the fragile covering brilliant against his pale nudity. Who knew under all the twisted sadism that Hannibal was a romantic at heart. He certainly had Will’s, literally and figuratively. 

Amorous notions aside, Will got up carefully from the bed with his arms crossed over his chest, sticking his hands deep into the damp hollow of it, his fingers lacing between his ribs in bizarre prayer. Feeling strangely light weight, the unique kind of which that can only come from disembowelment, Will stumbled toward the bathroom where he fumbled for the shower. He stepped directly into the stream to clean out the rest of the petals, thorns, and vegetation, not wanting his flesh to heal over it. He would only have to dig it out later and he knew from long past experience that was a hassle, like trying to scratch a phantom itch under a cast.

Satisfied, Will punched and cracked his ribs back into place, liberally using the bathroom wall in this effort. Once the bones were roughly back where they should be, the curious nature of his existence took over for him, healing all the damage until he stood good as new. Leaning against the tile, Will wilted under a sudden and intense wave of dizziness. The ill sensation of his body filling back up with blood and organs was still disconcerting even after all this time as the immortal adjusted his balance to accommodate revived bodily functions, like breathing. Will doubled over, the abrupt expansion of his lungs like a punch in the guts, the rhythm of his return to full life vivid and burning as nerve ending flared all over. Getting back into the habit of the living, Will picked himself off of the shower floor and stretched under the steaming hot downpour.

“My name is Will Graham. I am in Baltimore, Maryland and I am alive.” 

oOo

Because it amused him to do so, Will wove the best of the roses together, wearing them as a crown down to breakfast. His lover and his killer was found easily enough in the kitchen, cooking up what looked like his own kidney.

“Mmmm…..that smells good.” Will said softly, pressing a light kiss to Hannibal’s cheek before helping himself to some much needed coffee. He wasn’t about to mess with the contraption that Hannibal preferred to brew his coffee in but the good doctor had already set out his cup for him, the dark liquid still steaming and sweetened to perfection. 

“Did you sleep well?” Hannibal asked as he plated the food, simple fare of poached eggs, kidneys flash fried with shitake mushrooms and sweet onions, and breakfast potatoes cooked in fresh herbs and cheddar cheese paired with the freshly squeezed fruit juice though Will couldn‘t put his finger on the origin of the flavor. 

“Yes, thank you.” And wouldn’t this be the perfect scene for domestic bliss, Will observed, if he weren’t wearing a crown of bloody flowers and breaking his fast on his own innards. 

Hannibal reached over to the adjust the bloom circlet, the petals still wet with the dew of Will’s blood. After leveling it out, he pressed down on it enough so that the thorns caught in Will’s flesh like hooks, painting bright stripes of crimson over his face and down his neck. Hannibal couldn’t help but sigh at the beauty of it all, Will’s eyes like star sapphires when framed with the ruby like qualities of his own spilled life. He wore pain and death so well, so effortlessly Hannibal noted as he committed this look of murder to his perfect memory. He would sketch it all out later at his leisure. It deserved to be immortalized on canvas even if he was the only one going to be appreciating it. To his pleasant surprise and satisfaction, Will let the blood dry where it meandered, both men knowing that they were not due anywhere today or wanting to see other people. 

“Remind me to clean off if anyone calls. Don’t let me walk out of the house like this. I might finally get committed if your neighbors see me or Jack finds out.” Will said, still trying to figure out the mystery of the juice. He could just ask his host but where was the fun in that. 

“I would never let that happen.” Hannibal sounded almost reproachful, though whether something of that nature would not occur outside of his control or that he took it that Will thought he was so unobservant to let a guest leave his house in clear disarray was never clarified. 

Will smiled into his juice, deciding it was pineapple blended with Clementine. “Of course not. It would deprive you of your favorite toy.”

oOo

“What would happen if I were to cut your hands off?” was the question that came after clean up, Hannibal washing the dishes while Will dried them, putting the varied pieces away when he was done. They had just gotten to the two last bits to clean, a cleaver and its chopping block, presumably what Hannibal had used to slice and dice his kidney up. Hannibal was regarding the implement thoughtfully, his sanguine eyes flickering over to Will’s wrists. 

Not one to disappoint, Will move over to him, laying his hands out on the chopping block without hesitation. “Go for it” he offered, loving how he could still surprise Hannibal who was never stuck in that state for long. Shaking his head as if to clear it, Hannibal retrieved a mixing bowl, setting it beside the chopping block.

“Please bleed into that.” Hannibal told him, picking up the cleaver. The blade was a blur of silver, he was so fast with it. If he had blinked, Will knew he would have missed it. He would have applauded if he still had the facilities for it, deeply appreciative of his lover’s skill and quality of the steel. Remembering the request, Will moved his stumps over the empty mixing bowl though he wondered what Hannibal would be using his juice for. Probably a sauce or something. The good doctor was planning a dinner party soon, featuring Will as the founder of the feast and its sole source of meat, celebrating him.

If that wasn’t love, Will had no idea what else it could look like. Leaning against the counter as he bled out, Will watched Hannibal as he inspected his newly freed appendages, the immortal waiting until he was leaning in close to his hands. Springing into action, Will flicked his fingers up to lightly pinch the tip of Hannibal’s nose, the cannibal jerking back in surprise to glare at Will for his mischief. 

“You still retain motor control.” Hannibal said in his way that made it more statement than question, his curiosity overcoming his irritation. Will could tell he was resisting the urge to touch his nose. 

“To an extent.” Will shrugged. He focused enough to make his hands start crawling toward him, the movement steady but slow as Hannibal watched intently. “I’m not going to be doing any complex gestures like playing an instrument or untying knot work. Feet are even harder to control and call back to me, but mostly due to their shape. Anything below the knee is always awkward.”

“And if you are cut up into pieces?” Hannibal asked in that calm, inquisitive tone that made Will want to demonstrate for him right then and there.

“That can be time consuming, very much so actually.” Will admitted. “It can take weeks or even months before I can get myself back together. Of course it all depends on where and how I was scattered. I spent a good part of the 1400’s without my left leg because a damn shark ate it. Had to wait until the currents worked it back across the Atlantic and even then it was on the wrong continent.”

“That must have been uncomfortable.” Hannibal understated, Will smiling at the doctor’s knack for it. Shaking some excess blood off of his wrists, Will touched the severed end of his flesh together, the skin sealing itself as bones clicked back together. The clean cut nature of the wound helped with his recovery, Will wiggling the kinks out of his numb fingers. He hissed at the pin and needles sensation as the phalanges refilled with blood. 

“Not as much as you would think. For a couple of decades, I mostly sat on my ass transcribing bibles for Franciscan monks. That or I begged. That’s a daily adventure of dodging refuse and hungry dogs, or being hanged when the locals got drunk and bored.” Will said, moving over to the sink to wash off his hands and wrist. For all his quirks toward cannibalism, torture, and murder, Hannibal had some very strict house rules about cleanliness and leaving behind bloody fingerprints everywhere. Not that Will could fault him for that. It was one of the reasons it made him so hard to catch. 

“Fascinating. Is there any time period that you prefer?” Hannibal asked as he covered the bowl of blood, tucking it safely away in the refrigerator. He would make sugo all'arrabbiata with it later.

“Not really. I have always tended to live in the present and after a while, it all merges together.” Will said which was true. He saw no point worrying over pasts he could not change. 

The more things change the more they stay the same.” Hannibal observed.

“"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going the other way." Will countered back with his own quote. “And before you ask, no, I never met Charles Dickens. I was out West by then, well into the States. I did meet King Arthur though.”

That admission earned Will a narrow look from Hannibal. “I find that rather hard to believe.” the doctor remained unimpressed. Will didn’t know whether to be delighted or disappointed about Hannibal’s non-reaction to the name dropping. 

“It’s true though I going by a much different name then. I was known as Galahad by the court.” Will defended himself, giving out one of his oldest names, something he rarely ever did.

“The knight renowned for his purity and gallantry? How fitting.” Hannibal smiled, the expression slight but genuinely amused. Will began to suspect that he was being mocked. “If memory serves, you were the last person to ever lay eye on the Holy Grail and upon a death of your choosing was supposively taken to heaven by angels.”

Teasing confirmed, Will made a sour face at Hannibal, waving him off. “The tales of my demise were greatly exaggerated and everyone was doing quests for the Holy Grail and Jerusalem. What can I say? It was a thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Your comments do a thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Your comments will always be my beloved.


End file.
